Buried Beneath A Willow Tree
by Aby'n'Marc
Summary: Song fic to Whiskey Lullabye (Brad Paisley, Allison Kraus) There's been a boy at the bar everyday for a long time now and Gift wants to know who he is.


Disclaimer-I don't own the movie Newsies or the song. No Doubt owns the song.  
  
Gift sat across the bar from that boy again. The silent one with the blue eyes. She had never gotten enough courage up to speak to him. He was so depressed looking. He came in every night and drank straight whiskey until her father called last call for alcohol.  
He seemed about eighteen or nineteen years old, he carried papers under his arm, and occasionally a friend came with him but the friend never spoke. He just sat there.  
Gift finally got enough audacity to speak to him about a year after he first came in. "Hi. I'se Serenity but me friends call me Gift."  
"I know. Youse one a' Jack Kelly's goils."  
She stared. "You knows Jacky-boy?"  
He smiled sadly. "Yeah I know him. I work wit him."  
"Wow. I shoulda said hi ta ya sooner!"  
He shrugged. "I really don't talk much. Not anymore at least."  
Gift poured him another shot and leaned on her arm. She was fifteen years old, blonde hair and dark brown eyes. "Why not?"  
His eyes sparkled for a moment and then became dull again. "Me goilfriend, da one I planned ta marry, left me three years ago an' I ain't gotten ovah it."  
"Den why da ya spend all ya time in heah? Go get her back!"  
"I can't. An' I can't get drunk enough ta keep her off me mind."  
  
She put him out like the burning end of a midnight cigarette.  
  
She broke his heart: He spent his whole life trying to forget.  
  
We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time,  
  
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind,  
  
Gift spoke with the boy everyday after that. She found out about the girlfriend. How she had expected him of cheating on her and just left one day. A note had been sitting on the pillow of his bunk. It said what Madeleine thought and how she couldn't be used like that. He hadn't seen her since then, though he had sent her letters. She never responded.  
Gift found out where he lived. He had been a newsie like her and then moved out to an apartment with Madeleine. When she left he went back to the newsies but never sold the apartment.  
He kept coming everyday, as if on a constant vigil to drink Madeleine away, but he never could. Then one night he drank more than Gift thought possible. He stumbled home in the dark.  
He didn't show up the next day, or the day after that. It was scaring her. Had he given up alcohol after what to be the worst hangover in history? Or was it worse? He could be face down in a ditch somewhere...no! Gift had grown to care about him to much for her to accept that. She went out looking for him.  
  
Until the night:  
  
He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger.  
  
And finally drank away her memory.  
  
Life is short, but this time it was bigger,  
  
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees.  
  
We found him with his face down in the pillow,  
  
With a note that said: "I'll love her till I die."  
  
And when we buried him beneath the willow,  
  
The angels sang a whiskey lullabye.  
  
La la la la la la la  
  
La la la la la la la.  
  
La la la la la la la,  
  
La la la la la la la  
  
Serenity walked home numbly. He was dead...how could he be dead. That note... "I'll love her till I die." Well at least he was free now.  
She sat down at her father's bar, brown eyes blurring with tears. Her brother sat next to her. "Serenity? What's wrong?"  
"Look at da bar, William. What's missin'?"  
  
William gazed around and his eyes rested on the empty seat. "Conlon. Da miserable kid."  
"Yeah. I been talkin' ta him for about three months now. He drank hisself ta death. Two nights ago."  
William stared at his younger sister. "Dat's sad, Gift. Real sad. But why da ya care so much?"  
"He needed help! No one gave it ta him!"  
  
Gift went to the funeral and there she met Madeleine. A small girl with black hair and green eyes. She was hysterical and Gift couldn't take it anymore. She had to know. "Madeleine! Ya know he nevah cheated on ya, don't ya?"  
  
"Of course I know! This is all my fault!"  
Three days later Madeleine appeared at the bar. She sat at the end, drinking whiskey...silent...cold. Gift never got as close to her as she did to the boy but they spoke. She found out his name...and she found out she had known who he was the entire time. What newsie doesn't know Spot Conlon?  
"He was my angel. My love. The only one that ever cared about me."  
"I bet oddah people cared. Ya just didn't know it."  
"I'm a murderer. I killed the only man that ever loved me."  
Gift rolled her eyes. "He killed hisself, Maddie. He killed hisself."  
  
The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself.  
  
For years and years, she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath.  
  
She finally drank her pain away, a little at a time,  
  
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind.  
  
Madeleine lived her life in the same bar as her Spot until Serenity turned 20. Then one night, much like her love before her, she disappeared, much to drunk to speak. Gift and William went after her. Gift was terrified of what she might find behind the door of Madeleine's apartment. Her fears were true. Maddie lay face down on the pillow with Spot's picture in her hand.  
  
Until the night:  
  
She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger.  
  
And finally drank away his memory.  
  
Life is short, but this time it was bigger,  
  
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees.  
  
We found her with her face down in the pillow,  
  
Clinging to his picture for dear life.  
  
We laid her next to him beneath the willow,  
  
While the angels sang a whiskey lullabye.  
  
La la la la la la la  
  
La la la la la la la.  
  
La la la la la la la,  
  
La la la la la la la. La la la la la la la  
  
La la la la la la la. La la la la la la la,  
  
La la la la la la la.  
  
Spot's death was harder on Gift than Madeleine's because as much as she denied it, she had grown to love the blue-eyed boy. How sad it was that an addiction had taken his life sooner than it should have.  
  
A/N-I wrote this for my cousin, who nearly lost his life to alcoholism. Please take it seriously. 


End file.
